


Shampoo, Marshmallows, and Crossdressers, Oh My!

by Fudgyokra



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crack, Crossdressing, Gen, Multi, Orgy references, This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-14
Updated: 2011-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>France, Poland, and Japan get into an argument... Over whose shampoo smells the best, of all things. Crackfic! Contains orgy references, crossdressing, and Canada covered in marshmallow. Like, totally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shampoo, Marshmallows, and Crossdressers, Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

> This is really, really bad. I was fourteen when I wrote this and Hetalia was a new thing to me. But I'm trying to get all my fics from FF dot net over here, which means I can't leave this one behind, lol. I guess this will count as blackmail if I ever become a successful writer.

It was a bright, sunny day outside, and for some reason pertaining to the plot (or lack thereof) of this fanfiction, every member from the World Summit was running around outside in celebration of a rare Free Day.

So, while most of them got together to form random orgies around the hundred-acre yard, a select few of them preferred  _not_ to be out in the sun doing something they could've just done _inside_ in the board room. Or in France's office. Instead, those people sat on the steps leading into the building, which was the only remotely shaded place available.

That select few included France, Poland, Japan, and Poland's slave - I mean, Lithuania. There were others, of course, but since they're not important to the story right now, they don't matter.

"So...," France began, trying to break the ice.

After no one responded for a solid minute, the man sighed and dropped his face into his hands. "This sucks."

Poland, not at all enjoying the heat (it made his hair frizz), unfolded a pink paper fan and began to wave it at himself.

"Poland," Lithuania said, his tone weary. "You  _could_ find someplace  _besides_ my lap to lay down, you know."

"Like, I totally know that, Liet."

"So you're going to move, then?"

"Like, no way."

"Well, I tried."

Japan, smiling sympathetically from where he sat, turned his gaze from the other men to the open field before them. The only people he saw present (the only ones who hadn't decided to join them or the multiple orgies) were Austria, with his crazy party of four (said party being him, Hungary, Prussia, and Switzerland), and Egypt.

"I suppose most people are currently behind the building," the Asian man announced at length, looking at France for no other reason than to look at France.

"France, like, why aren't you out there?" Poland teased, raising his head from Lithuania's lap and putting his elbow there instead. Lithuania made a tiny squeaky noise as the Pole's elbow dug into the front of his pants.

"Poland," he whispered, trying to be inconspicuous as he tapped his friend on the shoulder. "Poland, you're hurting me."

The blonde obviously did not hear him, or was ignoring him, because he continued to talk without regarding how much pressure he was producing by leaning his elbow in Lithuania's crotch. "Because, like, aren't you, like, with England or something?"

"That does it!" France exclaimed, turning around and jumping forward, catching Poland by the throat. The two proceeded to try and maim one another while Lithuania's testicles were abused in the process.

Japan sighed through his nose.

"Weeeeee~!" someone from the building's side squealed. Japan looked up in time to see Italy streaking, followed by Germany, who wasn't technically streaking, because he was wearing a shirt, but was still very naked from the waist down.

"I did not just see that," Japan told himself calmly, trying his very best to erase that image from his mind.

After a lengthy battle, the duo beside him gave up, allowing Lithuania to escape while they caught their breath. He shuffled forward on his knees, a tear forming in the corner of his eye. "Japan," he whispered, as if he were afraid Poland would notice his absence and drag him back over.

"Yes?"

The brunette slung his arms around the other man's neck from behind. "Help me."

"Uhm... All right..."  _Go to your Happy Place, Japan. Ignore your surroundings. Think happy thoughts... Happy thoughts..._

"Your shampoo smells nice."

Immediately snapping out of the Happy Place he'd been striving for, Japan turned his neck slightly to face Lithuania. "Excuse me?"

"I said, 'your shampoo smells nice.'"

_Okay, not creepy at all._

"Thank you, Lithuania-san."

"Like, whaaaat?" Poland exclaimed from behind them. Lithuania's face briefly contorted in panic, but he gathered his calm and let go of Japan. " _His_ shampoo is cheap.  _My_ shampoo is, like, totally  _bea-u-ti-ful_ ~!"

Japan's eyes narrowed, but he didn't turn around. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your shampoo is, like, totally cheap."

"What does the cost of shampoo have to do with how good it smells?"

"Because the more expensive, the better it smells. Like,  _logic_ , duhhh."

France snorted. "Then your shampoo must cost around one  _Zloty_. Because it's not  _half_ as nice as mine is."

" _Whatever_ , France! That is, like,  _such_ a lie! Liet, tell him that my shampoo smells the best."

"His shampoo smells the best," Lithuania quickly agreed.

"Like, totally better than Japan's, right?"

"R-right."

Japan stood up. "Now, hold on just one minute-"

"Everyone knows I have the best sense of style, so, like, why would my toiletries be any different? Aha, my logic never fails me!"

France stood up as well, followed by Poland. Lithuania stayed on the ground, nonchalantly whistling a jolly tune.

"Your logic is  _merde_ ," France objects, "for my shampoo is so amazingly rich and sweet-smelling, that everyone swoons when I pass by~!"

Poland rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hip. "Um, like, no way. People, like,  _cry_ when I walk past them."

"I don't blame them. I'd cry too if I had to see you flaunt your mini skirts every day."

Lithuania hugged himself tightly as a tangle of legs (two pairs clad by long pants, the other clad with pretty much nothing, since Poland was, indeed, wearing a mini skirt) crowded around him, signaling that everyone was in everyone else's faces. The pair of legs that wore the white pants turned away, as if prepared to leave. The voice that matched the legs spoke up. "I know exactly how to settle this," Japan said, casting a glance over his shoulder than indicated the others should follow him.

France  _hmphed_ and began walking. Poland started to follow as well, forcefully grabbing Lithuania's arms and dragging him along, too.

Japan lead them to the (cue scary music) back of the building.

"What in the world are we doing in this smut pit?" France questioned, trying to sound appalled but coming off more delighted than anything.

"We're each going to choose someone to model our shampoo. That person will deliberately try to get people to smell their hair, and whoever's model gets the most compliments wins."

Poland looked very bemused. France probably would have, too, if he were paying attention to something other than the three tangled pairs of bare legs sticking out from a shrub to his immediate right.

"Why would someone, like, just randomly smell someone's hair?" the girly blond asked, cocking his head.

Japan thought about it a moment. "Our models can flip their hair so that the smell travels."

"Oh, so, like, people will smell it and be like: 'Hey, like, what's this totally fabulicious smell?' And I'll be all like: 'Oh, it's just, like, my totally fabulicious shampoo!' And then I'll win because mine will, like, get the most votes and stuff."

"Are those Estonia's legs?" France muttered to himself.

"Speaking of votes," Lithuania piped up, "why don't you guys just have everyone smell from each of the bottles and take a survey?"

Simultaneously, Japan and Poland shot Lithuania dirty looks.

"Yes, and those are Russia's. Whose are these?" France continued talking to himself in the background.

"Sorry, sorry. Never mind..."

"Oh, Liet, you're so, like, dumb sometimes! Like,  _who_ would wanna smell a bottle of shampoo? For real."

Lithuania sighed.  _What nutjobs,_  he thought somberly.

 _Are those China's legs?_ France thought. "Hey, guys," he whispered so as not to wake the sleeping-in-the-shrub trio. A grin exploded on his face. "I found Estonia, Russia, and China."

"What?" Japan inquired, more than a little disturbed. "You can tell just by their legs?"

France nodded. "I can discern every single person's legs! I memorized how they all look."

Poland grinned and twirled around in his skirt; Japan's eye twitched. "Why would...? How did...?  _When_ would you have seen... You know, never mind. Perhaps it is better left unsaid."

"Ooh, I'm gonna look for England. He'll be my model." France cackled and took off to search for England's legs.

"I already, like,  _have_ my model," Poland announced in a bratty gloat. He hugged Lithuania from behind, although it was really more of a death grip than a hug.

"Eh, well, I guess I'll just..." Japan shuffled over to the sleeping-in-the-shrub guys and kicked the shortest pair of legs.

"OW, aru!" China exclaimed, drawing his legs into the shrub. "Russia, what the-"

"No, no, China-san, it's me. Japan."

"Oh, aru. Uhh, one minute..." The three men waited patiently for China to redress and pull himself out of the shrub. "Okay, what is it, aru?"

"China-san, that's Russia's shirt."

"It is? Oh, yeah, it is, aru..."

The silence that followed was rather awkward, so Japan cleared his throat. "I would like for you to be my model."

China smirked vividly. "All riiight, aru. How much?"

"What?"

"How much do I get paid for the strip tease?"

Japan's face turned bright red. "Aaah, that isn't what I meant, China-san."

The shorter Asian raised an eyebrow. "Then what?"

"The three of us are, like, totally having a contest to see whose shampoo smells the best," Poland answered, grinning cheekily.

China, unaware that France was the third contender and failing to notice Lithuania half-hidden behind Japan, blinked once in confusion. "Where's the third?"

"France-san is...looking for England-san's legs," answered Japan, figuring out half way through the thought that the sentence was going to become a serious failure.

Surprisingly, China just nodded like it was perfectly normal. "I would tell you where England is, but I doubt it would be of much use to you two, aru."

Lithuania didn't care enough to correct him on the miscount.

"I found him!" shouted France from somewhere in the distance.

"All right, aru. I'll do it."

" _Arigato_ , China-san."

"No problem, aru." Subconsciously, China rubbed the small of his back. "When do we start?"

"Now, I suppose."

"Wonderful timing, aru. I really need a bath..."

" _Il damner tous en enfer sanglant_!" France cursed as he tripped over two sleeping bodies on the ground. "What the  _fuck_? Is that Spain and Romano?" He promptly stood up, kicked Romano as hard as he could in the ass, and left.

* * *

 

Poland, Japan, and France waited outside the bathroom door, a little antsy over the outcome of the test, though none of them would admit it aloud.

At long last, Lithuania and China wandered out, followed a few minutes after by a very pissed-off looking England.

"Okay, guys!" Poland chirped, shifting his weight to one foot and putting his hands on his hips again. "Liet, you're, like, totally going to win it!"

France crossed his arms, watching (a little too) closely as England crossed the room, with nothing but a towel on and his wet hair matted to his forehead. "I doubt that,  _petite dame_."

"Did you just, like, call me a little lady?"

"If I did, you wouldn't be able to prove it."

"Gentlemen," Japan intervened in a sweet voice, smiling politely. "Shut up."

Poland rolled his eyes, then skipped across the room, going to brush out his model/slave's hair while humming a cheery melody.

Japan went to stand by his model/sort-of brother, even though that left him with nothing better to do than watch him blow-dry his own freakishly long hair.

France went to go watch porn on his model/sort-of husband's laptop.

Then, once everyone was ready, the models were chided to go and get as many compliments as possible. They came back three hours later, China looking stoned, England looking terrified, and Lithuania looking exhausted.

"So, like, how did it go?" Poland looked at them expectantly.

Lithuania plopped down on the nearest soft surface, which happened to be England.

"I got four, aru," said China, giggling profusely. "And then Russia and I fu-"

"Get the bloody hell off of me, Lithuania!" England cried, shoving the brunette off him and standing to dust himself off. Lithuania remained on the floor, but spoke still.

"I got four, too."

Japan and Poland exchanged uneasy glances. If England got even one more...

"I got four," grunted England.

"Please tell me he said 'more'," muttered France, slapping a palm to his face. At the same time, Japan and Poland shook their heads, dumbstruck.

"And it was the same four wankers each time," added England, stifling a yawn. "Hungary, Austria, Switzerland, and Prussia. They were all high as hell and kept saying the same thing to all of us."

" _What?_ " the three competitors cried in unison.

China made a pouty face. "I need another bath, aru." He was ignored.

"Like, what the heck happened? Something totally went wrong."

"I'd say," England snorted.

Lithuania, despite his weariness, had to smile. "You guys do realize that all three of you use the same shampoo, right?"

There was a long stretch of awkward silence. During that silence, the door was flung open, and Canada ran in, muttering several things in rapid French. He slammed the door behind him, locked it, and proceeded to look through the peephole. He muttered more things in quick French, and France's mouth curled into a smile. "Woo-hoo!" he cheered, raising his arms in a "ten points!" type of gesture. "Congrats, son, you've had men chasing you!"

"Huh?" Canada turned around, eyes widening as he realized that people were actually  _in_ this room. "Oh, dear..."

All of the guys (except France, who was crying tears of joy) were staring intently at the man, who was dressed in a ( _very_ ) revealing plaid mini skirt and a white tube top. He was also covered in an abundance of sticky white substance, though no one dared ask about that.

"Ahem... I'm...sorry...," he croaked, face flushed with embarrassment. His glasses slid down his nose, so he removed them and wiped more white stuff from the right lense. "A few of us got into a marshmallow war and things got out of hand."

Many counts of " _ohhh_ " were heard around the room.

"And Cuba and Prussia kept trying to-"

"You know, I think it's time to call it a day," Japan announced, stretching theatrically. "There are beds in the room beside this one. Everyone should get some sleep."

Everyone agreed to some extent and began to file out of the room. While over there, most of the males were so tired they just collapsed on the first bed they saw, landing most of them on the first one on the left wall.

Japan shook his head at the heap consisting of China, England, Poland, and Lithuania on the bed before moving to the vacant one beside it. France and Canada landed on the third one, the former half-way on the top of the latter.

It was peaceful and quiet for about thirty seconds. Then France said, "Canada, your hair smells nice."

"Thanks, I guess..."

"That's good shampoo."

Canada nonchalantly slid out from under France, moving to the fourth bed before falling asleep, marshmallow coating and all.

Japan sighed a very long sigh. "There are no words to describe days like this."

"Like...sure there is...," Poland replied, already half-asleep. "Happens to me, like, every day. Right, Liet?" Lithuania snored in response. "See? Liet knows what he's" -Poland paused to yawn- "talking about."

"Good for you, Poland-san."

"Shut up and go to sleep, you bloody wankers."

"Good night to you, too, England-san."

 


End file.
